Canada Day!
by candy4yourEYEZ
Summary: A 2-shot for Canada day! Alfred/America, Matthew/Canada, France/Francis, England/Arthur, Hong Kong/Jin, Australia/Dan. FrUk, AmeriCana. T for language and suggestiveness
1. Phase 1: PLANNING

America looked at the calendar and nearly crapped his pants. The day after tomorrow was… Canada Day.

And he hadn't planned anything.

He. Was. Dead.

So, since America rather liked being a hero and eating hamburgers and all the other joys of living- which he would certainly not be enjoying if he forgot his lover's birthday- he had to get something set up. And soon. Thankfully, he was a great last-minute planner; procrastination was his gift! After all, look at the world wars! He was always fashionably late to save the day. He'd be fine this time too… right?

First, he called his ex-parents/brothers/other-nation-people, France and England. He called France first, because he figured that since he raised Canada in the first place, he would want to be the first to know. America would just call England next.

As it turned out, he needn't have bothered. Because his conversation went something like this.

"*muffled thumps* _Bonjour, c'est Francis, qui est-ce_?"

"Francis, I don't speak French. You know English, so speak it!"

"*sigh* I said: hello, it's Francis. Who is this? Although I suppose I don't have to ask the last question, since you answered it with your rudeness and utter lack of tact. *muffled complaint that sounded faintly like 'Not my fault!'* _Amerique_, why are you calling?" America noticed that France sounded a bit peeved, and wondered why.

"Well, Canada Day is the day after tomorrow, so-"

"_Merde_ *and more muffled thumping noises*" Now, a new voice took over. "Alfred, lad, are you sure it's the day after tomorrow?"

"Iggy? *a faint 'don't call me that ridiculous nickname was quickly hushed by America's overly loud voice* Why are you at Francis'… Oh. _Oh_. EWW, WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE I CALLED?"

"Hush up, Alfred. Are you sure it's the day after tomorrow?"

"Definitely! I marked it with a heart on my calendar!" _And a post-it note that said to buy more lube_, he added in his mind. But England and France didn't need to know that. "So, since you two know now, all I need to do is call Jin and Dan, and then we'll all get together and surprise him!"

"Alright, Francis and I will –Francis, stop it, I'm trying to talk,- try to figure out something to- FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, FRANCIS!- sorry about that, lad, -Francis, I'm warning you- while you call Jin and Dan, we'll come up with-FUCK! STOP BITING MY NECK, I'M TRYING TO TALK- … *sigh* I'll call you back, Alfred."

"Fine with me," America teased, "I wouldn't want to interrupt anything." He laughed as he hung up, hoping that they wouldn't act like this at Canada's party as well.

"Jin?" He was hoping that Hong Kong would have some good ideas for the party, as France and England would-judging by the sounds emanating from the phone before he hung up- probably be preoccupied for quite some time.

"Yes. Is this Alfred?" Hong Kong's voice was, as usual, calm and slightly- just a bit, enough that America had no clue- sarcastic.

"YEAH, IT'S THE HERO! Ok, so Matt's birthday is the day after tomorrow, so we have to plan something! And Francis will probably be cooking- even though he and Iggy are a little busy at the moment- because I don't think any of us- yeah, I'm gonna call Dan too,- want to have to suffer Iggy's cooking ever again. And I mean ever. Sure, he means well, but really? Is it that hard not to turn every food you touch into charcoal?"

"Alfred," Hong Kong smoothly interrupted, knowing that if America really got started, it would be beyond anyone-except possibly Canada- to shut him up. "I can bring fireworks."

Well, that was unexpected. NOT. "Great! I'll call Dan now, and we'll meet up at Matt's house the day after tomorrow- of course, that's assuming Francis and Iggy can make it out of the bedroom-, and it'll be pwn! And hero-worthy! HAHA~!" America hung up, and Hong Kong was left staring at the phone, wondering about the collective sanity of his family.

Which was not all that much, in truth.

"'ELLO, MATE!"

"That horrendous butchering of my accent. Alfred?"

"YOU BETCHA!"

"You can stop yelling, mate! I can hear you, you don't hafta blow out my eardrums!"

"Oh… OK THEN! –sorry- So, we're having a party for Matt, and you have to bring something! And it can't be a 'guard crocodile' again, the only thing that overgrown lizard did was try and bit Kumajiro! I doubt that fluffball tastes good anyways…"

"Who's cooking?"

"Francis, so you can chill, man."

"*sigh of relief * Can I bring Bastard with me?"

"… bastard? What?"

"Well, my koala, he keeps biting me, so I've changed his name to Bastard until he stops! It'll teach him a lesson for sure!"

"… OK! So, be there or be square! Now I have to go prepare for the invasion of the eyebrows!"

"… I resent that comment. –HEY, BASTARD, LET GO OF MY FINGER- And Francis doesn't have these ridiculous eyebrows."

"Yeah, but he's a pervert, so… whatever. KTHXBAI!"

Australia was also left staring at the phone, but not because of his worry about the possibility of being institutionalized along with his family, but because of the blood spatters caused from his koala bite. "Damn. Hope those'll come out. Damn Bastard…"

Alfred, after his momentous night, was left under the impression that most psychiatrists would give anything to treat his family, seeing as treatment would be ongoing and quite entertaining. And probably required, if they were normal mortals living in everyday society.

And everyday society has a merciful God to thank that they aren't.

* * *

Authoress' Random Ramble

So, this is the first chapter of a collab for CANADA DAY I'm doing with the wonderful Emgee Kagamine. Who is one of the pwnest people I know ^^. SO, here's the link to her fanart! You better check it out, because she put a lot of effort into it, y'all! (taking out the spaces is implied)

h t t p : / emgee-chan . deviantart . c o m / # / d2suoyi

By the way… I own nothing, and you would have to pay a fortune for crack of this caliber on the streets, so BE GRATEFUL (Read: review. PLEASE. =^_^=)


	2. Phase 2: Set Up

America waited nervously by the door to Canada's house; the owner of the house was still asleep. It was 1 am in the morning, and his… family, for lack of a more fitting word, was supposed to arrive soon and get everything ready before Canada woke up.

"Alfred, lad, let us in," England hissed at the door, and when Alfred opened it hastily, they all poured in. France, England, Hong Kong- toting a panda-, and Australia- oh, so that was Bastard, sitting on his shoulder. Why the hell did it have those creepy red eyes? Was that normal?-.

"Alright, what should we do first?" America whispered- although whispering for him was like talking in a normal tone of voice for the other nations. Who winced at the sudden annoying outburst. Because, really, America does tend to talk too much. And not everyone likes the sound of his voice. Especially if subjected to it for an extended period of time while captive, such as world meetings.

"First," England hissed, "hush up! You're talking too loud!" He glared at America, the nasty look only accented by his rather impressive eyebrows. "Now, we'll figure out who does what. So, the cook is-"

"NOT YOU!" The other four men said simultaneously, all grinning at the peeved expression on England's face.

"Yes, yes, you gits, now that that's been stated, Francis should be the cook. Any arguments? No. Good." England crossed his arms with a look of immense self-satisfaction on his face at getting out an entire uninterrupted statement.

"But why can't I-" America started to whine, but was cut off by Hong Kong slapping a hand across his mouth.

"Shush." He said simply, giving America a glare to rival England's. He then turned to the original maker of the patented death glare- not even Romano's mean looks could compare to those made and taught by England, the master of the look that made you want to curl up in a hole and die before he ripped your intestines out and strangled you with them. Because if looks could kill, England would be a mass murderer by now- and made a 'go on, I've shut this blathering idiot up,' motion.

England sighed, and continued. "Jin, you'll be in charge of the fireworks," and a look that made the god-fearing among them mentally cross themselves sprung into Hong Kong's eyes. "Dan, you will help America decorate. And if you argue, so help me, I will castrate the both of you. And I don't care if that interferes with your plans for tonight, Alfred," America's face was like something out of a movie where a girl just saw her significant other get stabbed repeatedly and folded up in a now-bloody mattress. "I swear I will if I must. I'll help Francis with the pastries- shut up, you," he glared at his former charges, all of whom had horror in their eyes. "I can decorate food perfectly well; it's the baking part that the fairies always mess up."

Everyone present in the room-including Kumajiro, who had snuck downstairs when he heard his favorite person to bite-aka, America- leave the bedroom- decided not to comment on that last part for fear of their well-being. Not because they were worried about what England would do to them, oh no, they were scared shitless about how Canada would react if he found them fighting on his birthday. That boy could be a scary bastard when he wanted to be.

And because England could be a scary bastard too, everyone got to work. America and Australia busied themselves hanging up giant Canadian flags, pictures of the prime minister, hockey posters, sticks, and jerseys. Then, they rigged a giant white balloon with red maple leaf confetti so it would explode on Canada when he walked downstairs.

Hong Kong had disappeared outside, and from time to time, small _pop_s and _bang_s could be heard, but no one wanted to mess with Hong when he had easy access to a plentiful store of recreational-but slightly dangerous- explosive materials. Because that was an idea that had already been put on the _Really_ Idiotic Things That You _Really_ Shouldn't Do, Even If You're_ Really_ Bored list. (some of the other entries were: DO NOT spill food on Russia's scarf, DO NOT say that England's eyebrows need to be shaved, DO NOT question Romano's virginity… most of which were, needless to say, committed at some point in time by America)

France was baking, foods of any and every kind, but mostly traditional Canadian fare. After all, the boy was raised by him, so his food was at the very least, decent. Unlike England's cause-of-death-on-a-plate. England, the maker of said plated-cause-of-death, was spreading white icing on one already finished cake, then using raspberries to make the Canadian flag, which was a feat easier said than done, and raised the respect that his former charges directed towards him by several notches. From time to time, France would walk over to England to kiss him when he wasn't expecting it, or England- while recycling yet another empty plastic carton that used to hold raspberries- would bump lightly against France's ass and grin mischievously when France threw a half-accusing half-amused smile his way.

And the nations that they raised would look over at each other and roll their eyes. Or, in America's case, pretend to stuff his finger down his throat and vomit. Pleasant.

Bastard and Kumajiro were sitting on the couch, glaring at each other. The other nations were a bit too busy getting ready to really pay attention to the two animals, though if they had, they might have been able to prevent a future catastrophe from occurring. But then again, who would want to pay attention to two pets anyway? They weren't causing any harm… yet.

Finally, everything was ready, and it was seven in the morning, when Canada usually got up. The nations waited with bated breath, because the next few moments would doubtlessly determine in which direction the day went.

* * *

Authoress' Random Ramble

PART TWO OF THE COLLAB :D And yeah, sorry about the cliffhanger, but I decided to keep the set up and the party itself in two different chapters. Please don't be mad ^^

Heartbreakingly, I own nothing. Not even the decoration ideas :P I do, however, take credit for the wittiness/humor :D It's just how I am.

Less than three. Less than three.


	3. Phase 3: The Party

Phase 3: The Party

Canada walked downstairs, yawning. He had gotten a fair night's rest, but when he woke up- to the incessant shrilling of the alarm clock,- the warm, comforting weight of his brother wasn't there. And Canada swore to himself that if he found his asleep on the toilet again, he would leave him there and wait until he fell in. Or better, push him in himself.

But when Canada walked down the stairs, he felt his foot press against a cord, and a white balloon exploded over his head, showering him in maple shaped confetti. Well. This was a nice surprise. He opened his eyes from the downpour to see his slightly- well, definitely more than slightly- dysfunctional family waiting in the living room for him. France was beaming, and had an arm around England's waist, who was blushing but also smiling. That was a shock, Canada had thought England's frown was permanent. Australia was smirking, like he usually was, and Hong Kong- whoa. That was a smile. An actual smile. Hong Kong… openly showing emotion… Does. Not. Compute.

And America, of course, was grinning from ear to ear, his impossibly white teeth almost blinding Canada. _That idiot_, Canada thought fondly as he stepped further into the downstairs, only to see it covered, floor to ceiling, in Canadian memorabilia. The sweet scent of Canadian food drifted from the kitchen, and Canada felt himself smiling like the rest of them.

"You remembered?" His voice quavered slightly, and America rushed over immediately to hug him with such force that it felt like his ribcage might splinter into tiny pieces.

"Of course we remembered, Mattie! We love you! Even though my love is the best, because I'm a hero!" America looked like a puppy that expected to be praised for dragging a dead skunk (twice the stink) into the house, and Canada debated whether to hit his brother, hug him back, or shake his head ruefully while smiling.

He opted for the last option, because, well, most gatherings of more than three nations tended to end up in chaos of magnificent proportions, and Canada did not want the birthday of his country to turn out like that. Even though it would be amusing, and probably a story he would reminisce about after all the horrendousness was over and the others had left.

Way after.

"_Mathieu, __mon fils chéri_, let us eat! I went to all the trouble of preparing a wonderful breakfast so we must get started,_ non_" France dragged England into the room, and the others followed. And immediately gasped at the sheer amount of food France had been able to create in a mere six hours. That man was a culinary genius, no doubt. Although the fact that he was a relentless pervert detracted from his culinary skill, but that was not the point. The point was that America might not be able to finish all the food. Which was why it was a good thing that there were five other people with relatively normal appetites to help.

After everyone had finished their heaping plates of food, they all turned to Canada for his verdict on how they should spend the day.

"We can go to a hockey game." Australia, offering a sensible solution, like usual.

"Let's go to McDonalds!" America, being an ignoramus like usual.

"Alfred, you wanker, we just ate!" England, chastising America and wondering where he went from with the idiot, like usual.

"That horrific excuse for a restaurant will give me a heart attack if I even set foot within a 100-feet radius of the premises! _Mathieu_, surely we are not going there, of all places!" France, being overdramatic, like usual.

"Let's ask Matthew what he thinks." And the usual pearls of wisdom from Hong Kong.

"U-umm…" And Canada being his usual, indecisive self.

"I have an idea! Let's all sit around and share stories of Mattie!"

The entire table went silent as they realized that America had just said something that made sense and didn't center around what he wanted for himself. They were flabbergasted. And, actually, sort of proud that he was emotionally maturing.

"Because I wanna know what he was like when he was really little, so I can tease him about it!" Alright, maybe it was a slow emotional maturation, but it was happening never the less!

"That sounds fine."

So the nations all gathered in the living room, France pulling England on his lap in a large armchair, Hong Kong and Australia accidentally sitting on the two animals on the couch- resulting in a need of new pants for the both of them- and America and Canada together on the loveseat. Which France grinned at, perverted man he was.

And to someone that was barely paying attention, only the more interesting snippets of the conversation would stand out.

"Well, _mon fils chéri_ used to only drink maple syrup. He refused anything else, only that tree sap of his would satisfy him."

"When Matthew lived in my house, he would hide in the large vases with that bear of his, and pop out to scare the visitors."

"Matt and I occasionally set firecracker traps for Arthur." ("SO IT _WAS_ YOU TWO!")

"Matteh helped potty train Bastard, now all he has to do is make him stop biting me!"

"Mattie's finest moment was when he burned down my White House. But be warned, brotha, you will never pwn me like that again!"

"I bet he did in bed last night, _non_?"

"Francis!"

"After all, he is geographically on top!"

And the rest of Canada passed in a peaceful lull, with stories being shared and wine being passed around. It was a nice day, Canada reflected, one of his better birthdays.

And the fact that his family was there to share it with him made it all the better.

* * *

Authoress' Random Ramble

ALMOST DONE


End file.
